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The other familiar line is: "A few years ago I'd fill this net with whitebait." As friendly as they are, the whitebaiters don't care to share tales of their ever-growing catch like some fishermen, although a peek in the freezer in some of the caravans reveals the truth. These people love heading to the river at 5.30 in the morning and leaving at nightfall, lured by the excitement of the catch and the taste of a good feed of whitebait at the end of it all. Peter Hanover and Gloria Harden have been living at Mokau for four or five years. They usually fish on opposite sides of the river but they are on the same side when it comes to what to do with the slippery sprats. "There's only one way to eat them," says Peter. "An egg, salt and pepper and plenty of whitebait." But it's not really about eating; it's more the anticipation of that big catch. "It's a patience game," says Gloria. "But if you're not here, you won't get them." Surrounded by nature and not much else, it's hard to think of something better to do. Ian and Colleen Purdie have been coming to their spot on the river for more than 30 years, and they have never run out of things to do. They come for the three-month season, returning home to Waitara to mow the lawns when necessary. "We haven't always been here," Ian says. "We used to be up river more, but we like it here." Getting down to their stand is an adventure in itself. Mud makes gumboots essential and the clay shoreline is only for the sure-footed. The Purdies' is a sophisticated stand. They have built shelter from the cruel wind that sometimes blows, and a couple of easy chairs allow for quiet afternoon snoozes. They even have the kitchen sink to wash and drain their catch. They have a shed if it rains and a non-stick frypan for the primus if they get really hungry. The couple stay at a campsite up the road for the season. Colleen knows how to cook whitebait. "We use half a kilo to six eggs, a bit of milk and salt and that makes about eight fritters," she says. "You can even cook them in butter. Just throw them in the pan for 30 seconds and they're great." Another regular whitebait fanatic is former New Plymouth man Ray Rawson. He loves fishing so much he's moved to Mokau, but he couldn't get to the river the day we visited because he was putting a septic tank in his new home. "I'd love to be there today but we've been living in a shed that's leaked since last year and the wife was starting to get a bit titchy," he laughs. Ray is rumoured to be a great cook and is happy to share his secrets. "If you are really extravagant you can put the whitebait in a touch of flour and drop them into melted butter. They're rich but fantastic." Sometimes Ray combines a quarter of a kilo of whitebait, two eggs and a touch of ginger to add a little flavour. "The main thing is to have plenty of whitebait and don't kill it with eggs," he says. At the Whitebait Inn at the top of the hill in Mokau, we meet co-owner Hilary Frewin. While Hilary has many years' experience in the hospitality trade through the Braemar and Club Taranaki in New Plymouth, she didn't know much about cooking whitebait when she took over the busy Mokau cafe two years ago. But she has experimented a lot and says the first thing is to have fresh whitebait. "I go through and check them when they come in. Any that are white or not too good don't get through." Whisking the eggs and adding the whitebait to make an omelette, she says the only trick is how hot you cook them and what you cook them in. "Each omelette is made individually in a non-stick pan and we use clarified butter." That stops the burning because the pan needs to be hot. "We do have a special way of cooking the fritter but I can't share that. I will tell you it's only to do with how you add the eggs and how hot the pan is." Hilary says there is no sense in adding herbs or even garlic, "because you should enjoy the delicate flavour of the whitebait." Hilary knows all the five varieties of whitebait that are found in the Mokau district. Although they look similar, there are differences. The biggest, though, is with the imported Chinese whitebait, which can be mistaken for genuine whitebait but has no dark strip down the middle. She says tourists are coming to Mokau now that the road is better in and around the township, and it is the tiny fish that captures their imagination. "Whitebait are exciting. There's something about them and I hope we can keep enjoying the sport and the eating for a long time yet," Hilary says. Whitebaiting is also a tradition. It's a pastime where cellphones don't fit, and the only thing that's fast is the fish. This year whitebait cost $90 a kilo at the shop; down on the river, the only cost is time and the ability to stop and be still. The Daily News 4/9/01
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